Of Blood and Wilted Blossoms
by WeLcOmE2pArAdIsE
Summary: Because it was never meant to be easy, nor do we deserve any such solace. Amidst this war, we do our duty. I am alone. You are alone. Let us suffer...and smile as we do. :Sequel::SasuSaku:
1. Bonds of Virulence

0.0

**Disclaimer: **I **own **these bastardized characters.

(No, I _don't_, and I certainly don't plan to dispose of Kishimoto-sama for the mere pleasure of saying I _do_.)

PLEASE SCROLL PAST MY RAMBLING IF YOU WANT THE SUMMARY.

You know, I've been wondering if it's unhealthy to be a sadist. This whole _'putting nonexistent characters through passionate hell that I hope never befalls my hell-bound self'_. Because you just know I'm driving the bus down there.

So, I'm leaving for vacation Friday-

_(For those of you in the US of A, I'm heading to the East Coast; Myrtle Beach, SC, specifically. Then NYC.)_

-and I decided to get this up before I left.

About the chapter: A bit lighter than expected, but trust me, angst will come. Main pairing is obviously perfectly imperfect SasuSaku. The rest? Whatever I make, because I won't promise that they'll remain static. In fact, I'm pretty sure they won't.

And on an obvious note...this is a sequel. So if you are interested in this, you need to just click my profile and find "Self-Destruction", because I swear if I get one review that is all confused (because of never reading the first one), I will become the most sadistic and vicious person you've ever met.

Seriously. I will carve out your kneecaps with a rusty kunai.

But if you're confused like you were when reading the first one, good, that was my intention. And this all comes together in the end, even if it doesn't seem like it will.

--

Virulence: Extremely severe or harmful in its effects; highly infective; bitterly hostile.

Damashi: _(Japanese):_ _(the act of)_ deceiving.

--

_(crosses fingers)._ Dear gods, I can't do beginnings, here's hoping I pull this off!

* * *

_Because it was never meant to be easy, nor do we deserve any such solace. Amidst this war, we do our duty. I am alone. You are alone. Let us suffer. And smile as we do._

* * *

**:: Of Blood and Wilted Blossoms ::**

**_Chapter One: Bonds of Virulence _**

_--_

Slosh.

Like her head, swaying with just an unhealthy tinge of dizziness.

Tilting.

Liquid traveling like silk and tumbling over more of the same, reaching up the sides of the crystal clear wine glass like blood. Chills played a haunting melody, enveloping every ivory vertebrae of her spine as sounds of life echoed around her. Exhaustion weighed heavy upon her as her shaking hand jerked out of her control, affected so heavily from lack of sleep.

_Damn my pathetic stamina. _

Vision blurred, she struggled to focus on the swaying glass in her hand.

"Sakura."

His voice was incredibly warm. Deep. Comforting.

Tilt. Tilt. Thumb and forefinger played see-saw, pupils focused on the blood running in the glass, cascading over the sides as it went back, forth, back, forth, and the material was so cool in her burning fingers.

"Sakura-chaaan!" Whine.

"Oy, forehead!" Bitchy tone.

"Sakura." Sultry; a tone so frigid that it diminished other voices, warm to her ears.

He roughly took her wrist.

Dimly aware of them staring, she leaned forward slightly and let him take the glass from her hand; the resounding 'clink' sounded unnaturally distant.

"She's exhausted."

"I know...Hinata passed out an hour ago," Naruto replied, nodding down at the Hyuuga's sleeping figure. Her head resting in his lap, blue hair splayed across it as he shoveled food into his mouth, occasionally dropping steamed rice and noodles into her long locks.

"She should get some rest, we all should," Shikamaru said knowledgeably, raising his glass to his mouth. His dinner had been long abandoned for the thick sheaf of paper he held in his other hand, eyes scanning the page with keen eyes only rivaling Sakura's when it came to detail. Said girl had left her information under her wine glass; it was now stained with a gray ring that soaked through several pages.

"I'm fine!" Sakura snapped abruptly, shaking her head and sliding the papers to her, but she did not peruse them as the others did. To escape the familiar, intense stare she was enduring, her eyes fell upon her barely touched plate of food. Pushing it away, she reached for her wine glass and Sasuke's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist again.

"You didn't eat enough."

"Not hungry," she replied, though without noticeable conviction. Her uneasiness would not be quelled by food or drink, but she could sure as hell try.

Kakashi glanced at Sakura over the papers he was skimming and then at Sasuke. "Take her to bed, Sasuke."

Naruto burst out laughing with a mouth full of food, showering the table, the occupants, and Hinata's long hair with sizeable chunks of meat that he hadn't bothered to chew. The dark-haired shinobi gave him a smouldering look and Sakura flung a steak knife at the blonde, missing by inches. Sasuke rose his eyes to meet Kakashi's one. The latter dared to grin.

"You haven't given us the room keys," he muttered monotonously, pursing his lips insufferably as Sakura snatched her glass from his reach and drank, avoiding his dark eyes.

"Who am _I _sleeping with, Kakashi-sensei?" Naruto asked, unaware that the girl in his lap was awakening to the loud sounds of the bar. "Shikamaru is too lazy to put the cap back on the toothpaste-"

"Naruto, I told you not to tell people that I complain about my boyfriend!"

"-and Sasuke is all obsessive and puts everything all organized and says that I snore!" He ignored Ino's frantic outburst completely, and glared good-naturedly at Sasuke, whom did not return it.

"You_ do _snore," Sakura muttered into her glass, rolling her puffy jade eyes.

Sasuke snickered quietly and wrapped his fingers around his own drink, bringing it to his lips.

"We have four rooms, and for good reason, given the circumstances for the roles we're playing," Kakashi announced quietly, keeping the information solely at their table; not that there were too many others at an inn this late that frankly, was in the middle of nowhere. The first sign of civilization they had seen for three straight days.

"I don't see why that is," Sasuke muttered.

"It's quite simple," Shikamaru interjected, straightening his information with a flourish. "Naruto and Hinata, the latter posing as Hanabi, of course, Ino and I, Kakashi to his own and of course, Sugiyama and Tenshon, the two shinobi you two are impersonating." Jerking his head toward Sakura for emphasis, he shrugged nonchalantly at the explanation that was thoroughly puzzling Sasuke.

"Aw, Sasuke, if it's such a big deal you can just put Sakura on the couch!"

Sakura socked Naruto in the arm, glare set, while Sasuke rose a pretentious eyebrow at his clueless friend.

"I'm not...going to make her sleep on the damn couch," he murmured gruffly, disguising his gentlemanly courtesy by lowering his eyes to his drink and taking a long drought. "Hn."

Sakura rose her glass and drank heartily as well, not lowering it as their company stared at them curiously. They were missing something obvious, and since Naruto seemed to be along with them...well, it must be_ very _obvious.

Kakashi narrowed his eyes suspiciously, though his twinkle of amusement was none too discreet. "You do realize that married couples usually share a bed, correct?"

**CLING.**

Sasuke abruptly choked, Hinata's head hit the bottom of the table (evidently, she had been listening), and Sakura's powerful hand, coursing with chakra, shattered her glass to pieces. Ino ducked with a screech as shards flew past her head, embedding themselves in the walls around the inn. Other customers were looking around curiously to find the source of the lethal weapons and commotion, and Hinata sat up quickly, blushing furiously.

One single shard rested in Sakura's palm; jade eyes, jagged, in emotion and in color, as sea glass unearthed from the softest sand, rested on Kakashi's crinkling smile underneath his mask. Sliding her long nail under it-

**SCHING.**

Even her mentor did not expect the incredibly intimidating power she possessed in just one finger, and as it sliced a lock of his graying hair clean off and embedded itself in the cushion behind him, even Sasuke had to smirk. Unfortunately, the latter was still choking on his liquor and did not emerge from his fit, nor did anyone think to help him as he kept his eyes to the table, pounding a fist upon it. Hinata was sinking lower and lower in the booth, maroon forehead barely visible above the edge.

"MARRIED?" Naruto yelled, cerulean eyes alight with mischievousness. "You mean like, with a ring and everything?"

Raising the heel of her hand, the medic slammed it upon Sasuke's upper back and cleared his throat, sending his body crashing into the side of the table. Syllables, sharp and dangerous, silenced present company as she inquired: "Explain."

"You didn't read thoroughly, did you Sakura?" Kakashi's voice chastised her amiably and it irked her to no end.

"Explain," Sasuke interrupted curtly, eyes watering from his coughing fit.

"As you know, the whole point of this mission, in the end, is to impersonate the members of that foreign organization. Sugiyama and Tenshon were two extraordinarily powerful and impressing members, and you two are to be them, in looks and in personality and yes, in marriage."

"They don't have the same surname," Sasuke replied slowly, while Sakura nodded in agreement.

"Technically, they do, but organization protocol required Tenshon to retain her maiden name in official listings."

"..."

"But, Kaka-sensei," Sakura began, struggling to find a justified argument as Sasuke remained dangerously silent.

"If you did not read the biography thoroughly, I apologize, but there's no way around this, Sakura," her former sensei replied, his voice low and significant. "This is your mission. Put personal feelings and qualms aside."

A loud snort caught the attention of the table, and Ino set down her glass. Raising her slightly shaking fingers, she formed invisible quotes in the air and mocked Kakashi. "Personal feelings," the blonde drawled, rolling her bright eyes, "What an _understatement_."

"As if you'd know," the medic spat, jumping to her feet, so eager for a fight. Short tempered, violent, sleep-deprived Sakura was ready to take a fistful of primped blonde hair and throw the girl around by it, slam her body to the floor–

Her graphic and sanguinary thoughts were interrupted as she felt calloused fingers latch around her wrist, tugging, not with the incessant childlike pull that reminded her of Naruto. Rough, impatient, sending shivers dancing across her spine from the anger emanating in the wake of just his touch. Letting out a curse and a screech in protest, as she struggled to resist his blind anger.

Sasuke dragged her exhausted body across the seat of the booth, letting her hit the floor and then pulling her upright. Coated in dust and red in the face, Sakura shoved him in the chest. She noticed the room keys clenched in his fist at his side.

"What's your problem?"

"Don't cause a scene. We're going to the room."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're not my _husband_, nor my _father_, and even if you were, I wouldn't listen."

"I'll _make_ you listen."

YOU WANT ME TO CAUSE A PROPER SCENE, UCHIHA?"

Growling in annoyance and embarrassment as people twisted in their chairs to better view the commotion, he spun her around by the shoulders and poked a finger into her spine. "Walk."

Barely a minute's pause before-

**SLAM.**

"Gladly. But _you_ don't get that privilege."

And with that, Sakura stalked off with her pretty head held high, cursing amiably under her breath as she tossed the room keys up, down, up, down. The fingers of her other hand curled around Sasuke's pant leg, dragging him across the dusty floor.

The Uchiha did not say a word, keeping his arms folded and glare set as every occupant of the room watched the door of the bar swing shut.

Hinata had her fingers pressed over her mouth tightly, still pink in the face. The sounds of their voices rose to a din as they stomped up the stairs. Kakashi took the liberty of breaking the tense silence of the table, littered with apparently amusement at the whole ordeal.

"Hmm. I forgot to give him Tenshon's ring."

Naruto stuck out his palm obnoxiously, waving it up and down with a grin on his young face. "Gimme it, sensei, I'll go-"

"Unless you want your body to be embedded in the drywall like Sasuke, you probably don't wanna do that," Shikamaru told him, shaking his head and straightening the sheaf of information with a flourish, eyebrows furrowed.

"That's all right, Naruto. Tomorrow is another day. And besides, you should take Hinata and make your way up to bed as well," Kakashi exclaimed cheerfully; his amusement was almost cruel.

"EEP!"

**

* * *

**

_Vitriolic in nature_

_Blind to faults and to a nonexistent loyalty_

_Where does it lie?_

_I can't decide anymore. _

_Affected by this torture that wander so willingly in the midst_

_Of my shattered purpose._

**----**

Raising a steady hand, she shielded her piercing eyes from the blinding light that danced on the horizon. Like something carefree that had already severed it's strings from any hardship that dared cross it's path. Unfortunately, it did nothing to soothe her, and as she let her heavy, metal weapon slide from her back, she realized this was all she had left. Loyalty was a farce at this very low point in her personal affairs, though...had Gaara been right? Was the world going to fall at Itachi's hands?

Did this matter?

A breeze granted her comfort, whipping from the not so far away shore and surrounding her with the bitter salt air. An ocean, accessible just beyond this glittering city of lights and sounds and hopefully, somewhere in there she could blend in and just forget–

"Ungrateful bitch."

It took her a moment to realize how harsh the words sounded from her own mouth. Raising fingers to her lips, she mouthed it again with deliberate precision, those syllables that were accusing her from an unconscious she tried to ignore. And in that moment she also decided how foolish and weak it would be to disown herself this way, pretending that nothing was happening or simply closing herself off to ignore it all.

Death.

Destruction.

The fallen.

She had seen it on her way here and wondered how long it would be, before this city fell victim to the same virulent affliction sweeping villages at a time. Oblivious to the rest of inner society because they were small places that had to fight to keep their names on any map, but it would be the ignorance of these warnings that would let the city crumble.

"_It would be prudent to let them fight their own battle."_

_Temari kicked her backpack underneath her bed, disguising her foiled attempt to leave the village, once again, with anger that was so normal for her it did not raise questions. "I'm leaving...isn't that enough?" _

"_You're going to find a loyalty, for I am sure that after recent incidents you won't be able to find it in your heart–"_

"_You're one to talk about HEARTS! About FEELINGS!" Temari screeched, perfectly aware of her low blow and not sorry in the slightest. _

"_Why do you bother anymore, Temari?" Gaara inquired flatly, shaking his head ever-so-slightly. "They have walked into their own destruction. In the end, man and shinobi will destroy themselves."_

"_Shut up!" she hissed, clenching a headband in her fist. "They don't deserve that. We broke our alliance, we __**lied**__, we attacked and we paid for that, remember? Or do you __**not**__ remember the assassination of the Kazekage?" _

"_Speaking of Kazekage, I've been removed from my post."_

_Shock reduced her to a dull silence as her eyes widened. "No."_

"_I do not know the reason they fed the public, but the real reason is very obvious, isn't it?" _

"_What the hell would someone like...__**Itachi **__want with us? With any other village?"_

_Snorting derisively, her brother surveyed her through heavy-lidded eyes. "As if we know what goes on in that man's mind."_

_Crossing to the door with the heavy footsteps of a man with a final decision, he leaned against the doorframe and watched her over his shoulder. "I want you to leave. But don't get into this. Those orders you were given...they were orders, and you couldn't change that."_

"_As if you fucking understood!" she spat, hurling a dulled kunai at him; the point embedded itself in the drywall, dangerously close to Gaara's pale hand. "You have no idea!"_

"_Maybe it's your fault, then," he muttered quietly, his tone not accusatory in the slightest, and perhaps this was the reason why Temari grew angrier; he was pitying her. "To an extent, love __**is**__ a weakness."_

"To an extent." The key words that created a false sense of acceptance.

Sliding her hand into the depths of her robe, she emerged with two headbands and flung them from her. Tumbling over each other, colored fabrics rippling in the ocean air as they came to rest a few feet away in blatant mockery of all that she had once had, and the many things she had lost. Clink. Metal on metal, two different symbols, two different loyalties, two different sides of her that vied for a spot in her cold heart.

"_You don't have any remorse, do you?"_

"You have no idea, Shikamaru," she muttered, lifting her dangerous fan over her shoulder and watching the tiniest lights, the stars emerging from silky folds of ebony. Night was moving swiftly over the city and even now, the neon shone brightly amid the people on the streets and the music echoed, able to be heard from where Temari stood.

"_Do you have any idea...how much she means to me?"_

"I know," she whispered. "You loved her."

"_PUT HER DOWN, TEMARI!"_

She stiffened in painful remembrance.

"_I swear if you make another move, I will kill you."_

"Then why didn't you?" Raising her head and screaming to the darkening sky, as if it had done her a personal wrong. Maybe there were answers there. Fingers gripping the handle of the fan with such intensity, shaking as she grasped the cold metal in her perspiring palms and eager, too eager to cause some untoward destruction.

A strangled cry erupted in the air: A sob, caught in a throat unwilling to cry and a noise of potent fury; a growl. Whatever the emotion meant to be conveyed, it came in full glory and those lilting syllables of heartbreak so delicately intertwined with the sound of an unsheathed weapon-

She swung her fan high, watching through blurred vision the tiny prisms of reflected color from the neon signs, so close and the salt air, already taking over her eager lungs.

_Escape this nightmare._

Slamming it down, the powerful corner taking no damage as she watched it crush the clasp of the headband into pathetic shards. Of former loyalty, of former trust. Grinding it into the dust, leaving the other beautifully untouched in the dim, dissipating light. Dusk.

Gasping quietly, she lifted the fan up easily and settled it over her shoulder once more, still staring at the shards, scattered across the dust for several feet. Existed one shattered purpose, left in her fading footsteps.

Struck with reckless, daring, initiative, she hurried scooped the other object into her robe pocket and steadied her fan, gazing over her shoulder at the city, now positively blossoming with light and glorious sound. Smiling slightly, she ground her heel into the shattered pieces and whispered:

"The city of Damashi."

* * *

_I rest at his mercy._

_They echo, his lies._

_Or maybe they are truths that I cannot disguise._

**--**

Two wrongs do not make a right. Under any circumstance.

Ethereal eyes of white, knowledgeable and experienced they as they may be, cannot create this answer from intuition alone. So he remained tense, struggling to uphold composure under a being and a force that strips it to the innards. Pale hands gently touching her perspiring neck as he felt those eyes, those damn eyes–

_I'll find a way to kill you for this, Uchiha._

"Oh Hyuuga." That emotionless lilt of syllables, the delighted growl of this sated product of insanity.

"Neji..." she whispered, baring her teeth viciously at the man. She was weak, Neji was weak, the young girl Neji was holding at the neck had no chance.

Itachi smiled down at Tenten.

"Stop," Neji hissed, fingers pressing against Kami's neck; she swallowed, perspiration sliding down her frigid skin, unable to look the shinobi in the eye.

"Which one is going to die?" The minacious, mocking inquiry, spoken so calmly it was killing the Hyuuga to hear it.

A life equals a life. A girl for a girl. One he did not know, one he cherished more than he would ever admit.

"Neji! Don't listen to hi-"

Neji's head whirled around as Itachi cut her off. Her words. Her air. Chocolate brown eyes narrowed, she struggled furiously against the arm around her neck, holding her down with minimal effort. So weak, she was so weak-

"Please don't!" she shrieked, holding his powerful limb away from her bruised neck. "Neji, she's a _child_, please-!"

Admiration could not be helped at this crucial point, as Neji stole a guilty, covert glance at the girl. No struggling, no pleading and not a single tear in her bright pink eyes, heavy-lidded and cast to the ebony tiled floor. The only amount of fear he could find was a tensed neck, pulsing wildly under his slippery grasp.

"Weak. So weak. She is weak, and you, Neji Hyuuga, are the same."

Tenten could not keep her mouth shut: "SHUT IT!"

Kami inhaled sharply as Tenten's body hit the floor, hard. The young shinobi with white eyes remained still.

"Take her life," Itachi stated calmly, the ultimatum. "Or I take," he raised his booted foot above Tenten's lifeless form. "Hers."

"Don't _touch _her," Neji muttered through gritted teeth, a muscle twinging in his jaw. _He wouldn't do it. He couldn't do it. _For the first time, he was lying to himself, disregarding all facts if only it could comfort him, somehow.

Itachi raised an eyebrow, eyes glinting in the dim light. "I do not appreciate your defiance."

A strangled cough erupted in the tense silence. Tenten sat up and struggled to lift her lids, fingering the curved blade in it's sheath at her side; without further pretense, she slashed.

"Fucking lunatic!" she burst out, voice vindictive and high-pitched as she swung the blade from her position on the floor. Itachi did not react as it slit through his pant leg, severing the material covering his shin.

A tiny sliver of blood bubbled between the folds and surfaced.

The Uchiha blinked; his eyes burst into brilliant crimson and Tenten gasped, dropping her blade and clutching her hand, wrapping her fingers around her wrist. Shaking uncontrollably, curling her knees to her chest as she fell on her side, biting her lip and trying, desperately, not to cry out.

"The...t-the bones," she stammered, the flush from her anger draining from her face. "You're c-crushing them! STOP!" she screeched, suppressing tears.

Apparently, Itachi did not appreciate her defiance either, because a second later he swooped upon her, grasping her chin in his fingers and forcing her, for that necessary millisecond, to stare into his eyes.

"Nonononono," she rasped, weak protests against the genjutsu she could not fight. Eventually, she began to scream.

Neji stared at Tenten writhing on the floor and came to a decision.

_I'm sorry._ Bringing back two powerful fingers, he held Kami by the neck with one hand, avoiding the tears welling in her pink eyes. _Please don't scream._

A sudden exhale tickled Neji's lips; the girl's last breath of precious air. Feeling it caress his perspiring, dirty face. His fingers knew fatal pressure points by muscle memory alone.

Thankfully, she did not utter a sound as he let his fingers go limp, Kami's body sliding to the tiled floor.

Itachi seemed satisfied, and blinked solemnly, letting his eyes fade to onyx once more. Watching the brunette convulsing on the floor, smirking almost fondly at the Hyuuga, whom had turned and taken a few steps toward his teammate. Unable to comfort or touch, only observe in stony silence.

Reflexes kicked in: The sharingan wielder took a smooth step forward and kicked Tenten's limp form... Rolling over and over, stopping, with a whimper, at Neji's feet.

"Take her."

* * *

Sorrowful, she kept her exhausted jade eyes cast to the bag she was currently rummaging through and ignored his intense stare. Silhouette stretched upon the blood red carpet, lean and muscular, created by the fluorescent light of the bathroom that spilled through the open door. He tried, however, to stop staring; it was not making her turn around, nor did it feel particularly _right_ to let his eyes roam her half-clothed figure. She was hunching over _his_ backpack, searching through _his _clothes looking for one of _his _shirts to wear to bed, and yes, he was annoyed about her display of humiliation in his regard. 

He was _trying_ to be a stubborn, insensitive prick, but as her eyes so heavy with apology settled on a dark, navy nightshirt and she stood, fiddling with the buttons, he sighed.

Leaning against the door frame, he let her sweep past without looking at him and scoop her hairbrush from the counter, pulling it roughly through her tangled pink locks. Tossing it aside. It hit the tile with a piercing clatter.

Sasuke watched her over his shoulder as she buttoned his shirt halfway, leaving the top few hanging loosely as she rubbed her eyes, tumescent in the pale glow of the light.

He turned.

"Why do you always wear my clothes to sleep in?"

"Because...I can."

Raising a pretentious eyebrow, he stepped forward and stood behind her silently, breathing down her neck and not hesitating as he reached forward. Sliding muscular arms around her waist and pulling her small body to his with the intent of being gentle; unfortunately, breaking habits were difficult after so long. Needy, rough, possessive groping was his forte and really, was only expected given the personality he portrayed.

Her knees nearly gave as she leaned back, accepting his less than tender embrace; he felt shivers from fatigue send shakes into her arms and torso, head falling back to rest on his shoulder.

"You are _so_ annoying...now go to bed."

"You...you're...you are such a..." she whined, vainly struggling in his grasp, throwing back her limp hand to smack him. Her fingers hit his taut, bandaged shoulder and rested there.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, struggling to stay awake. Fingers descended lower, feeling rather than seeing the zipper of her jeans. She tugged on it, the metal cold in her fingers, continuing to mutter. "But like...Kaka-sensei said," she breathed, clutching the top of her jeans, hands shaking as she pushed the material off her hips. "Just a mission, after all, we don't have a choice, right?" Tilting her head back, she let it fall sideways onto his collarbone and spoke against his neck, words slowly losing clarity as she pressed her body against his. "We'll get through it, just like always...just a mission..."

Sasuke, though quite used to frowning at numerous things, listened to her words. Derisive. Mocking.

Bitter.

She clung to him still for support as she pushed the material further, over her thighs, and let the jeans crumple to a heap around her ankles, leaving her legs bare. His long shirt reached nearly to her knees, admittedly covering much more in the front than in the back. Turning her face into the sleeve, she inhaled deeply and rolled her eyes at him.

"So when it's over...you can go back to...to being a bastard," she whispered, snickering quietly in her nearly unconscious state. Kicking her foot haphazardly, she muttered, "Stupid pants...", as the jeans slid off her ankle.

"Now _take_ me to _bed_," she murmured.

And with that order, she collapsed against him with a fluttering sigh and one last curse.

Sasuke's lips twisted into somewhat of an offended pout.

_Did she have to say all that?_

Unfortunately, he felt he deserved it, and as he slid an arm under her knees and carried her bridal style over the threshold, into the darkness of the hotel room, he sighed again. So typical of her, pushing herself to exhaustion, so _annoying_, how she felt the need to humiliate him in the bar, so cute, the way she insisted on stealing all his damn shirts.

So bitter, her words. Because they were true.

Despite her rekindling his tolerance of other people, that just didn't seem to include her.

Though sorely tempted to drop her, he set her sleeping form carefully upon the bed, roughly yanking the covers over her and folding his arms as he stared down. Eyes glittering in the darkness, watching her intensely, as she curled up at the edge of the side, somehow aware that she was required to leave room for one more.

**----**

'_Cause you're always dancing_

_Just out of my reach_

_How long can I practice_

_What I've always preached?_

**----**

And in the darkness, shirtless, he laid carefully on his own side of the bed and rested his tired head upon folded arms. Thinking.

Looking to his right, he watched her back rise and fall as she slept contentedly on her side. She had kicked the blankets off her body completely, revealing her legs, ivory in the moonlight cast across the sheets. He rolled onto his side, watching her through those same obsidian eyes, always guarded and disguising everything.

In that same moonlight, his fingers were just as pale as he reached out, unsure of exactly what he wanted to touch, but he needed to. He needed to feel _something_.

--

_So sensitive...makes me sick._

**--**

They settled upon the gentle curve of her hip, squeezing it roughly.

"Tenshon, Sakura."

He grimaced.

"Sugiyama, Sakura."

His grip tightened. His voice was raspy, thick, low in the stillness of the night.

He remembered how that man had spoken to her. Mocked her.

_Touched_ her.

That was whom Sasuke would have to be.

Unnatural adrenaline flooded him for one pivotal moment: He sat up quickly, removing his hand from her. Boldly, he bent over her sleeping, angel-like form and lowered his lips to her ear. Heavy, hot breaths fluttering against her, lips touching her skin as little as possible. He whispered:

"Uchiha Sakura."

Like a hiss.

Bonded.

It rolled off the tongue just too easily.

Raising himself cautiously, he turned over, his back now facing her.

Distancing himself once again.

On opposite sides they rested through the night, both dreading the light of dawn. Neither turned. Neither moved. There was always tomorrow.

Another day to fight.

Another day to keep himself away.

**--**

_I'll be okay._

_Just trust me when I say..._

_We're better off alone._

**--**

_Goodnight, Uchiha Sakura._

* * *


	2. Ensanguined

I just have to say: Classes. Suck. I hate not being able to update regularly; it kills me, it really does.

If you don't understand the first half of the chapter, please refer to Chapter 24 of SDLIN and reread Sasuke's flashbacks with Kabuto and the repossession of the ownership of the curse seal from Orochimaru to Itachi. As always, this all has a point, and thank you for the people that reviewed the first chapter. Sasuke's not trying to kill anyone in here, for the record...he's just scared. I'm a sadistic author.

Please don't hate Itachi.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Ensanguined**

_He was bleeding. _

_Quite heavily._

_So much...too much..._

_Utter blankness, a void that warranted not one bit of reassurance, solace, or direction, enveloped him wholly. At one point he began to wonder if that steady drop of liquid was even existential or if perhaps he was simply on an undiscovered level of insanity. There. Was it there? Was _he_ there?_

_Then-_

_Acute pain, erupting within his body and sending weak limbs into horrid, spasmodic convulsions that forced strangled and guttural cries to tumble from his lips. Spreading like channeled fire through adrenaline-induced veins with a dire want to possess, control. Violate. So foreign, yet having the distinct otherworldly inkling of being familiar. _

_**Ssss. Ssssss. Ssssss**_

_Only when the pungent odor invaded his nostrils did he realize he was burning._

_Only when he found the single source of light, the convoluted and vivid flames dancing in the darkness, did he realize it was his skin. _

"_Cursed."_

_His voice. Slicing through the constant crackling of flames and enveloping the boy in a sense of deep-rooted fear, too well known to not recognize immediately. In heart and in mind and in body, he was there, dictating his fateful future once more._

"_You think I am insane, don't you?"_

_A man so alone in the void, providing the only light within from the flames of his slowly atrophying skin, cried out in pain. For no one to hear. No words were possible; there was no skin on his lips left to form words and he was paralyzed from the effects of the sensation that was killing him, very slowly._

_The mental agony had always been worse._

"_You think I had no real reason to do what I have done; what I do now."_

_The young man writhed, involuntary spasms the only form of movement left to him. Sounds from his mouth were lost in the echoes of the words spoken before, the man that spoke before. Always in his head. He was tasting copper upon his lips, mixed with the distinct flavor of tears. Both were overpowering, disgusting, forcing him to retch in his nonexistent prison-_

"_You know in the end, you will succeed your own ambitions, but fail in all else."_

_He just wanted it to stop-_

"_You will lose it all."_

_As if he hadn't lost enough. What few luxuries did he have to his name? _

"_And you will lose her."_

_Burning, bleeding, retching, crying, fueled by all of the above. Inferno impure._

_Suffocating, feeling the congealed crimson decorating his throat, he managed to choke out a single word...if he had wanted to convey one final message of clarity, his sibling would have understood. _

"_...Brother..." _

_A final spit of defiance._

_And Uchiha Itachi trailed his fingers across his younger brother's shoulder, feeling his body writhe beneath his touch, whispering-_

"_Scream for her, Sasuke. __**Scream.**__"_

But Sasuke had already been screaming.

In the darkness, Sakura groped blindly for the switch to the lamp, but he wouldn't let her go; he _couldn't_ let her go.

"Sasuke!" she screeched, unable to turn her neck. His muscular arm was latched around it, the other encircling her waist painfully tight, nails digging into her skin as he shuddered against her. Eyes wide open and glittering obsidian in the night, shuddering violently as he clutched her-

"Sasuke," she choked out, firmly taking his arm from her neck, "What's wrong?"

It took her a moment to realize he was not in a right state of mind. Twisting her body awkwardly to gaze down at him, an expression of horror made it's way upon her pale face as he dragged his nails across her skin, the side of his face pressed into the small of her back. Burning. His body against hers was literally suffocated by the heat, too intense to not be real.

Unfortunately, it had a reason; her jade eyes followed the progress of the convoluting black marks, steadily spreading from his shoulder and branding into his pale skin. Catching the slit of slowly receding moonlight that penetrated the curtain, they shone ominously with an unearthly tinge of crimson.

Sakura groaned in frustration, prying his shaking arms from her waist and rising up on her knees, lifting his body to a half-sitting position against the headboard, reaching out to touch the marks-

She screamed and recoiled as he continued to shudder, now clutching himself in lieu of having her in his grasp. They really were burning, and she could not heal them or stop them from spreading across his chest, like ebony tendrils reaching into the depths of his sweat-soaked locks and gashing his clavicle, bringing forth the sickening odor of burning skin-

Setting her jaw, she took him by the shoulders and slammed his body into the headboard, hard. "SASUKE!"

His perspiring back slid against the wood, and he could not support his weight and began to slump, but Sakura blinked back tears of pain as the skin of her palms were scorched and singed, and held him the best she could. Now her hands were shaking and he was muttering and she couldn't tell what he was saying, and her heart jolted as his eyes welled with tears.

His tears.

"No," she murmured, beginning to panic. Hurriedly swiping her hand, despite the layers of skin the marks penetrated, across his face. She couldn't watch that. She couldn't watch him fall apart.

"Sasuke!" she yelled, wincing against the heat.

**SLAM.**

Blood spattered across the headboard and dotted their pale faces like fingerpaint; Sakura refused to let him go despite the fact he'd cuffed her, hard, in the skull, and dragged his unresponsive body forward only to slam it into the bed again. Amid the sounds, his gasping, strangled cries and the whimpers in her throat she wanted so badly to let free, the slap of the blood drops could be heard. Hitting the floor. Pattering on the sheet.

He blindly swung-

She caught his wrist and pinned it to the headboard, pressing as he resisted and viciously spat blood from his mouth. His breath hitched.

Applying chakra, she grimaced as she snapped his wrist easily and let his arm fall limp at his side, forcing him to relent.

Her palm was thoroughly burnt, dead skin revealing burnished pink beneath, the fresh layers. She placed it against his sweaty cheek and held him tightly in case he swung again, seething as she lowered her face to his without worrying about the consequences.

Looking him in the eyes, she whispered, "Stop."

He let out a strangled and guttural cry that struck Sakura with a violent, uncontrollable shiver.

"Shh," she murmured. Comforting and soothing him. Promising him it would be all right even if she had no way to make it true.

They were children again, two powerless Genin in a forest full of lies and shinobi raging with killer intent. Hoping to make it out alive if they could. Watching and waiting and all he had was her hand to cling to, having no choice but to believe the words she spoke.

It was the same. Interlocked fingers, the mumbled words of comfort. In terms of emotion, they were as inexperienced as they were at twelve and still reliant upon some hope that was not proving to be of use anymore. Fear, the rawest epitome.

"Why?" he croaked, hanging his head limply and digging his nails into his burning shoulder.

"You were exhausted. Your mind, vulnerable."

She did not let go of his hand despite the pain; his calloused palms grinding against the pink, fleshy skin of her own created tears that he noticed immediately. Through heavy-lidded, bloodshot eyes he surveyed her and could not quell the rising anger at all those injuries...the burns, the flecks of crimson across her pale face. Ripping his uninjured hand from hers, he curled the fist against his chest and his gaze widened at the purpling bruises on his knuckles. Comparing them to her knuckles, skinned and burnt nearly to the ivory bone.

Her pretty face, marred by the swelling marks he had left her with in his unconscious rage.

Tender fingers took his wrist, resting on the blood-specked sheet, and mended it in an instant.

He pushed her away and stumbled off the bed as a wave of nausea swept him, accompanied by dizziness as the words hit him again and he cried out-

"_You cannot protect her-"_

-his knees hit the floor and Sakura ran to his side, but he crawled, _dragging _his shaking self across the cold wood-

"_You will fail in all else-"_

-His perspiring hands felt cold tile beneath them-

"_Scream for her, weakling."_

-He slammed the door shut behind him, locking her out.

"SASUKE! OPEN THE DOOR!"

Her harsh order would wake up half the hotel. Leaning against it, he choked out, "_Fuck_ no!"

"I'll tear it off it's hinges!"

He did not reply, and she promptly did just that. Strength so admired in her did the job, shattering the hinges and tearing it from the wall; he crawled to the counter and clawed his way to a standing position, hunched over the sink.

"They're...they're not receding," Sakura murmured, holding her fingers near his skin. Heat still radiated in powerful waves, though the crimson veneer had faded to a steely ebony and the burns seemed to subside.

"Don't!" he hissed, recoiling from her soothing touch. She stared at him for a moment, then disobeyed him completely and placed her sensitive palms upon his back, going through the motions. Dipping the pads of her fingers into the deep wounds and forcing the glowing chakra deeper to stitch the skin together, all the while biting her lip and quelling whimpers of pain as the heat continued to singe her fingers.

His fingers were splayed upon the counter top with frighteningly white knuckles noticeable in the florescent light. Shaking. The chakra from her healing hands dimmed any other source of luminescence, even the light of dawn spilling into the room through the curtains over the windows.

"Stop," he spat in a voice so littered with frustration, guilt, untoward anger.

"I can't leave these-"

"And if it happens again?" he demanded forcefully, lids tumescent and the whites of his eyes still flooded with red.

Jerking away from her touch, he turned to face her and leaned back against the counter with his arms folded across his chest in a way that was not normal for him, not when his fingernails were digging into his shaking arms and he seemed to shrink into himself. Unable to look her in the eye. Gazing with narrowed eyes down at his shoulder, he watched the marks recede in such a familiar way that forced him to look away as he remembered just how many times he had relied on it. How, despite the revulsion it invoked from those around him...

_She always forgives me._

_For everything._

Something warm was being pressed against his chest: He looked down to see her shaking fingers clutching a towel and pushing it against him, not raising her eyes to meet his as she whispered, "Shower."

Fingers vibrating along with the rest of her tired body, she took a couple steps back but kept her eyes cast down to the tiled floor as her fingers trailed of their own accord up to her neck. Gingerly feeling the bruises upon her neck from the uncontrollable grasp of his arm. After a moment she left him alone, leaving him to whirl around and glare and seethe upon the reflection in the mirror.

Guilt. Toiling in his gut and it was just so _sick_, _because she doesn't deserve this. She never has._

Remembering her covered in all those injuries from _him_, that twisted excuse for a human, and he hadn't been able to stop them. Raising his pale hands, he saw the bruised knuckles from when he had hit her in the head when all she had been doing was trying to calm him down. He did not remember. Was he ever able to do anything but hurt her? Emotionally, physically, again and again and _again_-

Blind anger drove him to slam his fist into the mirror and the shattering sound echoed ominously. Around the point of impact were all those little pieces that broke so beautifully, slicing his skin and falling into the sink.

"STOP-FUCKING-WITH-MY-MIND!"

Both hands wrapped around the sides of the medicine cabinet and ripped it from the wall, and following fluid motion smashed it into the mirror, ignoring the shards passing his pale face at dangerous speeds. Pure luck prevented him from taking one in the eye, though he almost would have welcomed a break in the monotonous mental pain. At least he could feel it, palpable pain that provided a chance to perhaps contemplate death.

"Don't-fucking-_control_-me!" He roared at his reflection, tears of fury and pain stinging in his bloodshot eyes, those eyes that sometimes were just _too familiar..._

Pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes, he watched the colors swirl beneath his lids and tried to stop remembering.

It would never leave.

* * *

Slits in the blanket of darkness wrenched the night sky apart and flooded it with breaking dawn.

She stood and watched the familiar change, letting day awaken to her bruised, sorry form. Jade eyes opened in the face of startling sunlight and did not waver. She could not afford to.

Sasuke watched her from the doorway as she stood on the balcony. Watched her smooth the nightshirt across her backside and bare legs against the wafting breeze from the direction of the ocean. Watched her shake back the sleeves that were too long so she could take her shaking fingers and drink the tea she had made in a vain attempt to soothe her own conscious.

"Come look, Sasuke-kun," she murmured, smiling slightly at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were clearly pleading and he could not refuse. He quietly stepped over the threshold and took calm, even steps until he was at her side.

Her fingers were still shaking.

"It's nice, isn't it?" she whispered, gazing out at the little village with no name, one of so many more. Bringing the tiny cup to her lips, she sipped the tea and continued. "We'll be near Damashi in less than a week. Well," she paused and allowed herself a giggle; it was fake. "If everything goes as planned, we will be." Her giggles were squeaky and breathless and giving way to tears that she tried to blink away, though it was useless to try. Sliding down her cheeks, hovering at her jaw line and accompanied by those frightening, nasally squeaks. Hands wringing.

Smile forced.

Sasuke did not so much as flinch as the ceramic mug slipped from her fingers and broke upon impact on the floor.

She felt so pathetic.

He turned to her, taking her shoulders and gently coaxing her to turn her body to face him. He rose his fingers to the collar of her shirt and slipped them between the material and her skin, running them over her collarbone. It was warm.

It was bruised.

And his fingers were cold.

He turned his head away in guilt and embarrassment in the face of this prospect he could not control and could happen again. Abiding by mission rules, he had no choice but to be in her company; she was in the company of a man that could hurt her.

Maybe she always had been.

"It _won't_ happen again," Sakura whispered, placing her fingers over his. "Now that you know." Her grip tightened. "You can fight it."

Without a word, he wrapped his other arm around her waist and brought her slim body against his. Their fingers crushed between them and both soothed by it all being so familiar; the protective grip, her chest pressed against his as she freed her arm and embraced him with both, fingers weaving themselves through the shirt he had donned after his shower. Enveloped in the same, but different, scents. Of his hair, slightly disheveled from a hurried towel-dry and hers, with the lingering aroma of something from days ago that was used so often it was permanent.

"What if I can't?"

He could not see her reaction to his sharp inquiry, for her chin was resting upon his broad shoulder and her eyes fixed on the glittering, ebony seal. Her fingers tugged the collar away so it was completely visible.

"You _can_," she stated firmly, expression hardening, and such words held no room for argument or for doubt.

She felt him nod once, curtly, a man whom had accepted a crucial point.

All he could do was berate himself continuously, saying _I'm sorry. _

_I'm sorry._

_I'm sorry._

She knew what he was thinking"Don't say that," Sakura murmured, closing her eyes as she touched her lips to the brand on his shoulder, firmly. She heard his breath hitch within his throat but did not recoil from that mark.

Cold beneath her lip's caress.

* * *

Hours later, the young shinobi and Kakashi were seated around a table in the first-floor diner, taken aback by the lack of conversation and the tensile atmosphere that seemed to be affecting all of them.

"So, Kakashi-sensei," Naruto began conversationally, displaying his brilliant lack of table manners as long noodles slipped from his grinning mouth and made a 'splat!' as they hit the table. "What's on the agenda today? Are we gonna take down some rogue ninja? Plan an ambush?" His excitement did not instill a sense of adventure into the others. On the contrary, Shikamaru fell into a thoughtful silence and ignored Ino, whom was bothering him for the newspaper so she could read the comics even though she insisted they were not funny; Hinata sipped her tea quietly and Kakashi straightened his own paper with a flourish and heaved a sigh as he simultaneously wished he possessed the energy of his student. Sakura stared down at her small cup of tea with a disturbingly flat gaze while Sasuke remained dangerously silent.

"Well?" the blonde demanded, impatient. Sizable bits of chewed noodle spattered on those in the vicinity. Shikamaru and Kakashi lowered their papers in unison and stared over the top of them, while Ino took the opportunity to steal the comics section with a smile.

"Naruto-"

Naruto interrupted him. "Are we gonna hafta escort anyone?"

"Let Kakashi speak!" Sasuke spat, glaring at Naruto with such passionate hatred it was almost unnerving.

"Stop," Sakura muttered, "Stop it _now_, Sasuke."

Only for half a moment did he disobey; seeming almost abashed, Sasuke huffed and fell into his unnatural silence once more.

"We're still traveling on foot for a while," Kakashi stated, ignoring Naruto's groan and the entire spastic argument that had just occurred within a few seconds. "We have to travel through the most obscure villages we can; there's a lower risk of being followed or worse, attacked, and keeping a low profile is of the utmost importance until after the first half of the mission. Remember this fact as we travel, all of you, as we're not reaching Damashi until next week. We have other business to attend to before we head to the city."

"How many more days on foot?" Ino asked, putting her elbow on the newspaper and pinning it to the table, forcing Shikamaru to pay attention.

"I can't say for sure; this evening we will be taking a train from a fairly small town and heading south-"

"Trains have really small bathrooms, Kakashi-sensei," Naruto whined, pouting considerably. Hinata stifled a giggle.

"Which has to do with what?" Ino retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Regardless," Kakashi interjected lightly, as not to let a pointless discussion take place, "Be careful as we travel, on foot and in public. Don't discuss mission details or anything vaguely relating to our village at all. Try to avoid a battle, scuffle, argument at all costs." The jounin paused and his eye looked at Naruto, then at Sasuke, for he knew them too well.

"And, Sasuke," he added, almost as if he had just remembered. The dark-haired man looked up as Kakashi brought his fist above the table, fingers wrapped around an unknown object that piqued the interest of every shinobi present. He pushed it as long as his arm would reach and did not try to hide that distinct grin of amusement as Sasuke simply glared and reached forward also.

Kakashi let go; the Uchiha was quick to place his fingers over the square shaped, ebony velvet box, letting it be visible to the table at large for only a swift second before sliding it back to him and holding it in his lap. So obvious, what it was, and Sakura stared at it out of the corner of her eye with an indiscernible expression.

He watched her until her eyes rose to meet his.

"It's time you two started getting into character."

* * *

_Fucking smartass._

**THUMP. THUMP.**

Sasuke had not bestowed the ring upon her, not yet. Too many were present and watching, even though that really was the entire point of a proposal but something made him hesitate and stop. A part of him wanted it to _mean something_, even if, in the grand scheme of things, it held absolutely no merit in regards to feelings. And so the enormity of the situations at hand feel heavily upon his broad shoulders, and for once, despite him being a philosophical sort in the fact that he preferred to think and not speak, he had no desire to look ahead.

Then, he could feel it.

--

**Wander like an infant that has no home,**

**Among ivory bones,**

**Sob to the unforgiving sky, but it's **

**Laughing,**

**It's laughing.**

**--**

Thankfully, he was not alone, for Kakashi was feeling it too. Coming to a stop, he raised his gloved hand above his head and the rest of the group ceased their frantic, harried movement through the forest. The signature dull sound of feet ceasing chakra flow and hitting the wood on command, and they waited for instructions.

"Hinata," Kakashi addressed, half-turning to watch her over his shoulder, every muscle rigid, tense, ready. "Activate Byakuugan and search five kilometers northeast."

Tone in his voice flat, with a hidden sense of urgency that made Sakura raise her eyes to the sky and Sasuke lower his head. The other shinobi let the coveted forest sounds fade away in search of whatever was so disconcerting that even Kakashi thought it necessary to investigate.

"Byakuugan!"

All eyes were now on her as she remained quite still, index fingers shaking slightly as her startlingly white eyes did not blink, focusing, and through them she could see-

_-through the trees, and for miles there are trees uprooted so viciously, slash marks from animals too dangerous to be called wolves and the crying, there's people crying, so many howls and crimson is all over the ground in puddles, footsteps tracked through them and leaving trails past the makeshift gates that are barely standing. Soaked in blood. Even the smell...it's attracting animals..._

"It's blood!" she squeaked, recoiling as the raised, distinct veins around her eyes began to relax.

Sakura gasped quietly, trying to hold her fear in her throat as Sasuke looked around at her questioningly; mutely, she raised an admirably steady finger to point just above the canopy of foliage.

Smoke.

Billowing, ominous, spilling across the forget-me-not blue sky in a sickening, suffocating manner. To blot out the dazzling sunlight so easily and envelop them in a silent storm of terror that held little solace and would not spare the imagination horrible details. Now they all raised their heads to watch it coil and stretch and spread, staining the purest canvas with a color that was all too familiar and gruesome to not understand at it's fullest.

Holding the distinct scent that struck Sasuke and Sakura to the bitter, vulnerable core.

Burning flesh.

Their jounin leader was solemn and flat in demeanor and in emotion. Raising his hand above his head once more, they waited for the soundless signal to take off once more.

"Stay together," he reminded.

In a flurry of leaves disturbed by their swift departure, they raced time.

It all lingered obstinately as they traveled without words, keen to manifest emotions within their mind than verbally through their fears into the open. A glance to the ground racing beneath them was painted in disgusting colors, not only red; pink, black, charred remains of whatever they could possibly imagine. Deep slashes, penetrating layers of bark with the crevasses almost bleeding from their depths. As if such a thing possessed the organs from which to bleed.

Eyes welled with tears in the face of potent smoke that forced them to slow their pace, though not considerably; Sasuke distinctly growled within his throat and watched Sakura out of the corner of his eye as she kept up, expression stony.

Kakashi raised a hand.

They halted.

Jumped.

Seven pairs of feet hit the blood-soaked dirt. As a single unit, they forged ahead and noted the gruesome surroundings while walking at a fairly swift pace past footprints of many styles, all soaked in the liquid life of the fallen.

"What could have happened here?" Sakura asked no one in particular. Stopping in her tracks, she took a moment to survey the area with a grim countenance. Kneeling upon the dirt, she pressed her fingertips into a particular print and blinked once, struggling to keep them steady. "This is fresh."

"Whatever it was...we just missed them," Shikamaru commented.

"Which isn't an accident," Kakashi stated coldly, stalking ahead. They followed close behind, until the pathetic remains of a once-tall village gate came into view. Without pause they hastened within the broken, dilapidated walls and a quick inspection told them all they needed to know: That this town had been raped in all senses.

Sakura stepped past Kakashi, breaking their tight-knit, protective circle to walk forward: Black boots stepping upon the tiny blades of grass struggling to survive despite the fact that it obviously had been burnt into nonexistence. Jade eyes staring with a disconcerting lack of emotion at the broken items strewn about the blood-soaked dust, the everyday things like chairs and small fruit baskets that mothers carried upon their arms, children's handmade toys and tools farmers used in the fields. She could imagine the people out for market day, little kids running through a forest of adult legs with simple toys crafted by strong hands, held by small fingers. Men working. Store owners and villagers bartering, voices rising to a din and colliding with noisy laughs that were punctuated with snippets of the gossip expected and welcomed in a town so small.

All broken, shattered, crushed, remains that illustrated just how horrible it had been, and the pitiful illustration tugged on each and every heartstring.

And it was disturbing...just how many kunai were stuck fast into the ground. In the doors of houses, those that still had them. The nearest building was crippled with wide holes in the walls and a partly collapsed roof, the painted siding spattered with blood, where, almost morbidly picturesque, a body was slumped at the foot of the door that had been ripped from it's weak hinges.

Blood stained the kunai in the door frame, and her eyes roamed in a desperate struggle to escape the horror-

**PLIP.**

**PLIP.**

Dripping upon the wood-

**PLIP.**

It echoed-

**PLIP.**

"Sakura," Kakashi murmured, waiting for her to break.

Contrary, contrary.

Sakura took off running down the main street without a glance back.

There was a long pause in which Hinata whimpered quietly and the aging jounin sighed heavily, watching Sasuke struggle to take that step forward, to run after her despite the fact that-

"_Foolish little brother."_

-it was closing in on him because of how familiar it all was.

His footsteps pounded against the dust as he followed her, willing her not to look and see such tragedy. Because _it's not fair to her, she doesn't deserve this, not this._

Kakashi watched them once again without a word, then pointed to his right. "Split up. Naruto, Shikamaru, fan out that way; Hinata, Ino, stay with me."

* * *

She stepped silently over the threshold in a hesitant manner, still holding that impassioned expression upon her face as her footfalls echoed ominously in the front hallway. A glance to her right revealed a kitchen that had obviously been gone through; she was prepared to investigate until he caught up to her, stomping down the hallway and taking her by the shoulders.

Pressed against the wall, his fingers wrapped around her thin upper arms, he told her no.

Predictably, she gave him a ruthless two-hand shove and stumbled down the long hallway that ran through the house, front to back; past paintings ripped from walls littered with holes and shattered family heirlooms upon the floor. He followed her swiftly, and he heard what was pulling in her mind, the weak voice that was rasping, hovering on it's final breaths.

"Mother...mother, 'm sorry..."

He could hear it from the room at the end of the hall, and Sakura burst through the half open door, slamming it into the opposite wall. Sasuke ran into her, for she had halted in her tracks, rigid at the sight.

Bare, bloody and filth-encrusted feet standing upon a stepladder. The boy could not be a day over sixteen, with dark hair, eyes, and handsome countenance. Petrified. In his hands he held the rope, bound intricately with so many little fibers that were created from calloused hands and meant to represent strength. Swallowing, he placed the noose around his pale, pitted neck and did not so much as flinch as his balance stalled and his feet nearly slipped from the step, causing Sakura to scream.

"What are you _doing_?" she shrieked, rushing forward-

"STOP!" the boy commanded, wide-eyed as he inwardly recoiled, lip trembling. Sasuke roughly took Sakura's arm and pulled her away, and then the boy's eyes fell upon him.

Now, he screamed.

"GIT' BACK!"

Confused, Sasuke froze, still with the medic in his painful grip.

"GIT' BACK!" the boy shrieked, paling considerably as his eyes never left Sasuke's. "You killed mah mother 'n' now you comin' back!"

As if struck dumb Sasuke remained rigid, letting the paralyzing sensation of shock flood his body as he looked into eyes that were showing him something he didn't want to see. So dark, so cold, _so much like me._

"Then...you have 'is eyes!" The boy cried out, pupils dilating in fear as he shook his head fiercely. "He who killed mah mother had them eyes!"

Any protests the Uchiha had cared to make were lost in the gruesome epiphany. He knew in that instant who had done all of this.

"Please, don't do this!" Sakura said, attempting to soothe; her voice pitched horribly in quaking fear.

"He tortured Mom!" the boy screamed, swaying where he stood-Sakura let out another quiet scream. "Don' you move!"

"Don't do it!" Sakura wailed, beginning to struggle and twist out of Sasuke's clutching hands. "Let me go, Sasuke, he'll do it, he'll jump!"

"HE KILLED MAH MOTHER!" the boy screamed, eyes welling with tears, letting his arms fall like weights to his sides. "An' I couldn' do anything! Looked at her with them eyes 'n'..." a shudder ran through his battered body that gave way to wracking sobs, and he swayed atop the ladder again.

"You won' git me," he muttered, sliding his foot to the edge of the step, shaking as he held his weight upon it. "Eh-tachi."

A moment in time felt like dragging seconds: Sakura wrenched herself free of Sasuke and threw herself forward, but she was too late as the boy kicked the ladder out from under him with his heel; the medic let out a strangled cry as gravity took it's toll, and the rope tightened quickly around his neck-

**SNAP.**

And she had barely taken two steps forward.

She fell to her knees in shock, ignoring his flailing and twisting and now twitching body revolving slowly above her, a limp puppet on strings. Knowing he was already dead and yet pleading, praying to some unknown deity that he wasn't. Her teammate remained a statue, refusing to breath as Sakura put her hands out and her weight fell upon them, resting on all fours, while Sasuke remained silent.

"Sasuke..." A quiet whimper. He did not respond. "I...I couldn't do anything."

Sasuke seethed, clutching at his chest as her words, so meek and pathetic, collided with his own from long ago. _I couldn't do anything._

Curling into a ball. Beginning to shake. She screamed.

"THAT WASN'T FAIR!"

As life dwindled from the body, the hope slowly ebbed away from her guilty heart. As Sasuke kneeled beside her, mute and at a loss for words of comfort, she continued to whimper to herself, fingers tightly clutching her head as she rocked.

"I couldn't-"

Back.

"-_do _anything."

And forth.

* * *


	3. Unconventionality

I know, it's been forever and I apologize. I had so many time-consuming computer problems and the holidays were extremely hectic. Nevertheless, I'm going to work on a tad quicker updating, which should be easier now that I have a new laptop with a full functioning and customized word processor. We're getting into the plot more, now, which I am happy about, and yes, I will remind everyone this is rated M for Mature, even though I'm not phased by it. Remind me to do a Reviewer's Corner so I can list you amazing reviewers in an upcoming chapter.

_Other News: Those who read my high school AU, expect an update soon. For those who enjoy the NaruIno pairing, keep watch for a one-shot. Sha La!_

Reviews make me happy, as always.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Three: Unconventionality**

_She's got all these men around her_

_Reeling them in_

_Her beauty's a sin._

_(Follow the mission)._

_But the one in her heart_

_Put the rock on her finger_

_Amidst their pending deaths._

_--_

Six shinobi, poised on figurative tenterhooks.

One silent room.

Curtains drawn and fire fed periodically by whomever happened to be pacing past it at the time; whoever was not unwillingly forced into a corner by common fear of the unknown, the news they wished to know. None dared to speak, however, for they were lost in the convoluted horror that was still viscously sinking in and reducing them to a buzzing silence.

A silence in which everyone thought, yet no one spoke. The tension was painfully overwhelming.

Two males paced in front of the fire; it hissed and crackled and spoke to them with an obstinate, snide tone that they promptly ignored. The taller of them stalked haughtily, his arrogant air of grace notwithstanding; hands weighing down the thin pockets of his lean ANBU uniform, he kept his blank façade in place. Unfortunately, the bitterness was hard to miss, and his companion threw him the same questioning glance of concern.

Cerulean eyes stared at the girl curled up in the chair, catlike, long cobalt blue locks spilling over the patterned blanket tucked tightly around her form. Arms folded, the blonde stood behind the Hyuuga with her lean frame supported by the wall, gaze unfocused. Naruto's unnaturally observant expression lingered upon his childhood crush, a woman so strong in both medical skills and mind, flicking the end of a sharpened kunai across her knuckle, lips tight.

Sasuke had ceased his unnerving pacing, a shadowed expression clouding his aristocratic face; Sakura reacted to the slice across her hand as much as she had to the popping fire. Everyone else had given a start.

**KNOCK, KNOCK.**

Six pairs of eyes stared at the bolted door, apprehension skewed upon every pale face. Shikamaru turned from the window and the contemplative, pale sky he had been covertly watching through a slit in the heavy curtain, crossing the wood floor with firm steps to put his hand around the knob.

"Yes?"

"Kakashi Hatake, returning to assume command."

Naruto bounded toward the door, but Sasuke put out an arm to halt him. "Ask him a question."

Shikamaru nodded. "What should I ask him?"

"OH!" Naruto exclaimed, and ducked under Sasuke's outstretched arm, pressing his face obnoxiously against the wood; Hinata stifled a giggle.

"Kakashi-sensei-; that is, if you really_ are_ my sensei," he added hastily, furrowing his brow in a mockery of a well-seasoned detective. "Question me this!"

"_Answer_ me this," Shikamaru corrected quietly, rolling his eyes.

"Kakashi Hatake," Naruto whispered dramatically, "What is your catchphrase?"

"Ah, catchphrase?" the jounin repeated, amused.

"Ya know, when you always used to make us wait on the bridge, when we were younger, and I would be all 'He's late, damn it!' and Sakura would agree with me and then Sasuke would just 'Hnnn' and fold his arms and not care, and then you would show up on the railing and say-"

"Got lost on the path of life," he murmured almost wistfully through the door; a lingering, nostalgic sadness tinged his words. As if he missed those innocent days with his Genin.

Naruto lunged for the doorknob, eyes alight and boyish grin in place as he yanked open the door. "You're right, sensei! And that was a long time ag-"

"Kaka-sensei!"

Sakura clapped a hand over her mouth, kunai forgotten as it slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor with a piercing, resounding ring. Hands shaking as she rose from the couch, eyes widened in silent horror as they surveyed his injuries. The other young shinobi gaped as he stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind him without a word to satisfy their curious and stricken expressions. With a sheepish grin and a half-hearted wave: "Ah… hey!"

"What _happened_ to you?" Sakura whispered, clearly distressed.

"The first shinobi was a decoy that I didn't expect to run into. Seems as if he didn't expect me, either," the jounin stated conversationally, walking further into the room. Hinata jumped up from her chair and hurriedly crossed the room to prudently place it at the head of the table. "Nevertheless, there wouldn't be foreign shinobi in a place like this; so full of little villages and commoners, he must have been tipped off."

The injured man sat heavily upon the proffered chair and could not help letting the back of it support his weight; watching him, Sakura straightened a bit as she walked briskly to the table, summoning leadership and take-charge attitude without missing a beat. Professionalism abounded, but nevertheless her eyes betrayed the worry sinking claws into her soft heart.

All eyes, whether or not shadowed, perfidy the truth.

Her sensei appeared so… uncharacteristically weak. And he knew how it looked.

"So someone knows we're on a mission. Or at least, on the move," Sasuke said flatly, shattering the silence.

"Unfortunately, yes," his former teacher replied. "I have a lot to say in a short amount of time, as well as our new mission from Tsunade."

"Wait, new mission? We're already on a mission. Are we splitting up?" Naruto barraged the jounin with questions until Hinata took his arm gently and gave him a saddened look. Leading him to a chair, the rest followed suit. Settling themselves around the table, silence descended swiftly as Sasuke took his seat last and without a disturbance, the chair flanking, empty. Sakura inspected Kakashi's arm deliberately, as if memorizing by sight alone every puncture and scrape and peculiarity sustained from his fight.

"Your shoulder is dislocated," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else listening, and gently, but firmly, maneuvered the arm until it quite literally popped into its socket. Kakashi grimaced.

"Anyway, let's get started. We have no less than fifteen minutes and I have details to give you, roles to assign," he began, recalling their wandering attention from sanguinary, less-than-pleasing memories of the morning. The medic continued to scrutinize his injuries and heal them as needed, little eyebrows furrowed and expression proficiently stoic.

Sasuke watched, arms folded and strictly-business façade in place. _She heals all the broken things._

_She heals me. At least, she tries. I'm beyond that._

The pink-haired woman paused, looking at the Uchiha out of the corner of her eye. As if she had heard.

Blood dripped resolutely from the jounin's injury, forming a crimson puddle. As each drop hit, it shook the rest.

She resumed, and Kakashi spoke.

"I gave Tsunade-sama a full account of the events that occurred in the unnamed village we discovered, clearly attacked by hostile shinobi. There is a possibility that it is linked to our undercover mission and those shinobi were searching for us, or hoping for us to stop for whatever reason. It's suspicious, and since it is so far from home, she is refraining from dispatching troops to investigate lest we draw attention to ourselves. It's probably what they want."

The thought of leaving so many innocent deaths pass under the radar without retaliation, rankled. So unjust.

"We have a deviation from the original plan, if only slight. Instead of heading straight to Damashi and laying low for a few days as the hired organization of Itachi, we have to, quite literally, take a detour to another town. Hidden shinobi of Konoha have reported several suspicious incidents, not to mention disturbing."

"Disturbing? How?" Ino asked.

"Reported accounts of public lynching, unprovoked beatings with no interference, other unconventional forms of death and genocide all conducted by several powerful shinobi that appear to be hired men. Presumably, someone else is pulling the strings. The inhabitants of the town are villagers, easily led and unaccustomed to technology, and there is unnaturally tight security."

"All unprovoked? Are they ritualistic?" Sakura inquired, pursing her lips as she delved into the speaker's arm wound with a pair of silver tongs. Removing the kunai fragment from within the folds of muscle tissue, she tilted her head slightly as she peeled the layers of dead skin away, leaving fleshy pinkness underneath.

"Yes, and somewhat," he responded, speaking to the table at large. "While several deaths seemed to be sport, many were accused of treason and charged with attempts to escape the village. Even children died for that."

"They don't want anyone leaving," Shikamaru said.

"Well, _we'll_ have to," Kakashi stated grimly. "After a short infiltration, of course."

"Will we be fighting?" Naruto demanded.

"No. This is strictly infiltration, information-gathering. Everything collected will be sent along to Konoha on a tight-security line, and Tsunade-sama will judge it from there. We have more pressing matters to deal with."

"More pressing than this?" Sasuke inquired. He steeled himself for a moment, then continued. "Does Tsunade realize that-?"

"Itachi could be part of this, just as he is suspected to be for our main mission? Yes, she realizes that, Sasuke. You have a more important mission to be ready for. Not only that, you're not on action for this one."

Lips insufferably pursed in offense, the Uchiha eyed him in annoyance and indulged in his forte of short, clipped, angry sentences. "Why?"

Sakura finished wrapping Kakashi's arm, and smoothed the last tape edge as the green chakra faded from his limb. Looking up, she was startled to find him looking down at her with a very serious gaze; he motioned for her to sit.

Sasuke unfolded his arms and pulled her chair out with ample room for her to settle, and watched her carefully as she scooted up to the table. Turning his dark eyes on the jounin, he dared not repeat his question aloud. Kakashi's eyes flickered to Hinata, then to Ino, and back to Sakura.

"The only members of our group crossing those village limits will be…" he paused, unsure of how to continue.

"No. Not alone," Sasuke interjected. Naruto seemed puzzled, but even Shikamaru seemed hesitant to resign to a mission dictation set in stone.

"We don't have a choice. The only men that were reported crossing the borders were those that worked for their boss, and most of the men inside were being separated from their families and killed. Men will appear suspicious and we will be discovered. They _have_ to go, Sasuke. _She_ has to go."

"Hold on, are you saying Hina-chan and Sakura and Ino-pig are all going to do a mission on their own? In a place like that?" Naruto demanded maddeningly, glancing worriedly at the quiet female next to him. "Why are only the girls allowed in?"

"They can cross the borders easier," Kakashi replied quietly.

"Because?" Sasuke asked harshly, ignoring some nagging, uneasy feeling.

The jounin paused for a fraction of a second. "Because the women shipped into the village are… slaves."

Ino made an indistinct noise in her throat; Sasuke's threatening breaths whistled through his nose.

"Slaves for what, sensei?" Naruto asked, unconsciously latching to Hinata's sleeve under the table.

"Think about it, dobe."

The Kyuubi vessel raised his eyes to his rival's and held his gaze; Sasuke's anger and modicum of disgust was written all over his handsome face. Naruto flinched.

"_That_, Sasuke?"

"That."

Naruto's fingers curled around the Hyuuga's flowing sleeve as his eyes fell to observe his lap.

An uncomfortable silence descended, and the only palpable sound was that of their breathing, as everything else seemed otherworldly and detached. Sasuke was nearly quivering in suppressed anger that was coursing through him without an outlet, and it made his insides twist to see the girl next to him nod her head silently, resigning herself to it.

"They will be disguised. They will go in alone, gather information alone, and return without help from us until we can secure an area. We can't give ourselves away. No radios; it is likely the shinobi in charge will be able to intercept it, and we can't have that."

The Uchiha stared at the medic's thin hands, vibrating uncontrollably, ivory fingers twisted in her lap as if clinging to the only thing she had. Pretty face, expressionless.

_And he felt the piercing fangs sink into the back of his neck, pumping a feverish power through his burning veins. They left, painfully tearing his skin and he fell to his knees. So young, so young…_

"_SASUKE! SASUKE!"_

_She was screaming for him, hysterical, and he found her hand and clutched it. Clung. He fell upon her; he found her. She held him and cried, and pleaded and prayed and oh god, please be all right, don't scream anymore._

_He found her._

_And he hung on._

She seemed startled as his calloused hand protectively covered both of hers, and he inwardly cursed, for his was cold. Sakura was always so warm when he touched her, whether brushing accidentally or taking her by the wrist or forearm, his fingers against her face… whatever, she was inviting, and he was detached. Those fleeting memories in which she-

-touched his arm, or-

-raked her nails through his hair-

-her lips to his ear-

-bodies molded-

-and he would want her so badly, it frightened him-

-but he always drew back.

"It will only be one day. And we have a train to catch," Kakashi announced, jerking every shinobi from their painful reveries and ending the discussion abruptly. "Change into commoner attire. The station is a few blocks away, so don't waste time. Dismissed."

The jounin left without another word; Ino took one glance at her best friend's expression and motioned for Shikamaru to grab the bags and let them have the room. Hinata heeded, and led Naruto with her despite the blonde's attempts to catch Sasuke's eye; she cast a sorrowful glance to her friends before bolting the door from the inside and shutting it carefully.

Neither Sasuke nor Sakura had moved from the table and had left their hands just so, words, in retrospect, seeming a dismal failure.

Minutes passed painfully until Sakura tugged her hands from him and stood, closing her eyes for a long moment before nodding to him. "Let's dress."

Kneeling upon the hard wood floor, they rummaged through respective duffel bags in search of clothing with less shinobi flair as was necessary. Sasuke rose first and glanced at her; she was holding something, staring at it.

"Hn?"

"Go ahead, Sasuke," she replied, waving her hand in a blasé fashion.

Proceeding to strip off his ANBU uniform completely, he realized when redressing just how many layers he wore, including the bandages adorning his arms and chest. Jeans felt incredibly light and not nearly as skin-tight but then, he could never run in them. All he could leave wrapped were his wrists and palms; the feeling was almost unnerving, as if completely unprotected.

Exposure.

"Hn," he repeated conversationally. She looked over her shoulder, eyeing him up and down in such a scrutinizing fashion that he thought it imprudent, then stood.

"Turn around, Sasuke-kun," she said quietly, almost teasingly. He dutifully obeyed, folding his arms across his chest and shifting his weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. She was silent for a minute or two and then startled him with an obstinate, stubborn grunt.

"Ah, Sakura?" he inquired tentatively, daring to glance over his shoulder.

**THUMP.**

Forgetting he whirled around to find her topless, sitting on the floor and making an angry face as she struggled to button her jeans. Blowing a strand of hair from her vision, she looked up at him sheepishly as he raised an eyebrow in her regard.

"Heh… they're tight."

"Ah. Don't wear them so tight."

"Well, when you're thin, you don't have a choice. They'd fall off, otherwise. Besides, they fit when they're _on_."

With a satisfied smirk, she succeeded in buttoning them and scooped her shirt from the floor, yanking it haphazardly over her head, displaying her almost childlike lack of patience. He held out his hands for her to grasp, and pulled her to her feet.

They faced one another, fingers never separating; Sakura's grin faded against his stoic, serious façade.

He squeezed. "Sakura-"

"Don't even think of apologizing, Sasuke."

"…"

"You can't protect me from everything," she whispered.

His thumbs unconsciously rubbed her knuckles as he let her words embed themselves wholly in his mind. "Be careful."

"Wouldn't be anything but," she retorted.

"… Stop having an answer for everything," he replied in a frustrated tone, still moving his thumbs across her skin.

"Oh, you like it when I talk," she giggled, leaning forward to press her lips to his cheek.

"Don't-laugh," he said tersely, each word staccato, an effort. "You could damn well _die_. Or worse."

"Worse?"

"Don't even," he warned, pulling her body to his, eyes narrowed.

"I won't die," she stated casually. "We need to head out."

He let her sling both of the bags over her shoulder and tug him along, unbolting the door and opening it-

His arm shot out-

**SLAM.**

"Sakura."

"Sasuke, I know, but I'm not going to mope around and_ think_ about it!" she said loudly, voice pitching horribly in distress. "I _can't_…"

Trailing off, she closed her eyes once more, fighting back the same panicked helplessness and fright, fighting back the tears. She did not open them until she felt his fingers sweep gently across her eyelids, then take her chin and forced her to look at him.

Stare.

Stare.

"If you choose to die," he whispered, "You'd better do it damn eloquently."

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he led her away from the door and crushed his lips upon hers, forcefully and without pretense.

Burn, burn.

Pulling away, he lowered his mouth to her ear, breaths heavy and lingering as he said:

"_Uchiha_ die with eloquence."

* * *

"I wish I could see you."

"I still know you're there."

"Still, it's difficult."

"Difficult is a matter of opinion, I suppose. I know you are there. I feel you."

"I'm not touching you, I don't think. Wish I could tell."

"We know each other well, Tenten. I can… sense you there."

"… You're cheating! You have Byakuugan."

"I am not."

"Fine, then. What am I doing with my eyebrows?"

"Ah… raising your left one, then your right, then you furrow them as if thinking."

"You are _so_ using-"

"I am _not_. I know how you are, Tenten."

"… I'm sorry, Neji."

"Quite all right."

"I'm bored."

"As am I."

"…"

"I actually _was _using Byakuugan."

"YOU!"

* * *

"Ah, it's that one."

"Which one, Sasuke?"

"To the left of the conductor; look a few feet along."

"Quit talkin' s'damn loud!" Ino hissed, noticeably haughty and ruffled. Whether she cared to admit it or not, nervousness was creeping into her normally overconfident, aggressive core. The boy at her side nudged her silver earring with his nose and murmured something in her ear; her face, in response, twisted into an ugly grimace. She silenced, though none too willingly.

The pink-haired girl stuck her tongue out at her best friend childishly, then stuck her thumbs into her belt loops and looked over her shoulder. Watching her teammate's eyes survey the fairly large gathering of passengers, her voice was low as she asked, "The surly-looking one?"

Sasuke stole a covert glance at the man, then nodded in affirmation. Stepping forward without a sound, he wrapped his fingers around her elbow and rested his chin upon the top of her head. Giving an impression, no doubt, that his sultry tenor was whispering sweet nothings into her ear; everything relied on the entire situation holding no suspicion. They were on a vacation and nothing more.

Blend.

"Look, Hina-chan!" Naruto yelled loudly, pushing his face into a hole of a cardboard cutout with a "body" that resembled that of Jiraiya-sama, his former instructor. "Who knew that the old pervert was famous like this? They know him even way out in the middle of-"

"Naruto," she interrupted, giggling.

"I wonder if they'd make one of these for me?" the Kyuubi vessel asked excitedly, looking down at Jiraiya's "body". "Though when I don't have this much _hair_."

Overcome by a wracking fit of giggles, the Hyuuga covered her mouth with her hands and hid her face, long midnight locks forming a curtain over her flushed cheeks. Thoroughly embarrassed, she turned away from him with perhaps the intent of hiding from him completely; if so, this notion was derailed as he stepped around the cardboard cutout and tilted his head quirkily, watching her.

Heavy flush deepened to a rich crimson. Peeking from through her fingers at his excited smile which was almost childish and shy in nature whilst his eyes held no shame in giving her his full attention.

"N-Naruto?" The Hyuuga's voice was startled.

"I like your laugh," he muttered quietly. Seeming, at last, to fall victim to naturist self-consciousness he blinked and gazed at a spot on the concrete platform, unable to disguise the wide, boyish grin on his face.

"HEY!"

Both of them turned from each other to see Ino snapping her fingers with great impatience, apparently oblivious to the boy behind her, carrying both duffel bags with a disgruntled expression. "We're leaving!"

Gathering at the boarding queue, the six shinobi waited anxiously for their tickets to be taken while Kakashi, donning a round hat pulled surreptitiously over his masked visage, lectured them in a hurried manner.

"Make at least an _attempt_ to blend in. You are all on a vacation, and you two," Sasuke and Sakura glanced at Kakashi to show they were listening, "Need to get into character. This isn't a joke."

Sakura made it a point to appear abashed despite her volatile inner raining obscenities on a cowering jounin, but Sasuke regarded his leader's words with little importance, instead glaring darkly at the same surly man standing a few feet ahead, in the line. Not taking his eyes from the stranger, he unconsciously stepped forward as the people ahead climbed onto the train, keeping Sakura at his elbow. Tightly, and close.

They reached the conductor and embarked the steps in pairs; Shikamaru and Ino, Naruto and Hinata, and Sasuke and Sakura with Kakashi bringing up the rear. Through several compartments they traveled, carefully stepping around passengers and children, luggage and miscellaneous items already strewn about the blood-red, carpeted floors. Progressively, the crowds grew thinner and the people, quieter until they reached one of the last cars of the train.

Unfortunately, the same suspicious man took a generous seat not more than a few rows away from them; Kakashi stole a glance at him, then settled into his window seat with a newspaper, expression thoughtful as Naruto and Hinata occupied the other two. Shikamaru and Ino took the seats in front of them, and Sasuke settled into the opposite window seat from the jounin, still keeping a tight grip on Sakura's forearm as they sat.

"It's already nightfall," the medic commented, leaning forward to gaze out the window at the dark platform, now empty. Only the chandeliers in the compartment provided light, for the inky sky outside was resolutely starless. Sakura continued to stare at the glass, unknowingly lost in a whirl of deep thought and her companion did nothing to occupy himself but observe the seat in front of him.

His hand toyed with the velvet box that he still, for some reason, felt prudent to keep close to him as if it held something that could, perhaps, be used in a moment's notice. Needless to say it was irritating him that the ring was still nestled in its case and for reasons unknown to him, not on her finger. It was what it was for.

Moreover, it was right. It had to happen, and he had no idea what the rational justifications for his thoughts were. No clever segway, no underlying pretext. It was indefinable, rankling, yet he knew it had to _be._

Somewhere below an engine stirred and wheels hissed potent steam. The night was young, the young were old. Lights dimmed slightly to grant a solemn atmosphere upon the tired travelers heading home, whether at the beginning of their long excursion or near the end. The young medic laid her head on her companion's chest, jade eyes still watching the swiftly blurring lights out the window as the train picked up speed. Breaths startlingly quiet and mellow and _soft_; she glanced up at him.

"Do you mind if I had a blanket?"

She felt rather than heard him: "No."

Smiling faintly, she stood quietly and crossed the aisle to ask Hinata for a quilt, keeping her voice low as not to disturb passengers. When Sakura had thanked the girl and turned away, Hinata looked at Sasuke, a strangely knowing but nevertheless kind smile playing on her lips. It reminded him of the medic's calculating and unearthly smirk of intuition, or even worse, it was like Kakashi's.

Sakura bypassed her seat and instead settled herself in Sasuke's lap, tucking the blanket around them both as she laid her head on him again, sighing in content. That same warm sensation enveloped him as her breaths fluttered against his collarbone, and he recognized it as something akin to comfort. Though it was still a brutal sting when she placed her hands against his chest, for as always, she held the warmth that clashed horribly; he was cold. Skin. Personality.

Heart.

Why did she put up with it?

_Because she loves you._

He came to the same answer every time.

_Why?_

_What am I to her?_

_You're everything to her._

_Do I love her too?_

He did not know.

Round and round in circles he goes.

(His conscious is toiling and ravaged by throes.)

_I don't know why I love her._

"Sasuke," she murmured, an angel's whisper vibrating against his chest. Gazing up at him with curious eyes that simultaneously scrutinized him. "What's wrong?"

He did not speak.

She leaned back and stared at him with a familiar expression of worry, fingers curled delicately around the material of his shirt. "Sasuke?"

Cautiously, he placed his fingers over hers and surveyed her with a striking and steady gaze, leaning closer. She was always so warm. And his mouth pressed against her temple so she could feel every word, lingering.

"Do you love me?"

She frowned and muttered, "That's a really stupid question, Sasuke."

"I'm… serious."

"So was I."

Grip tightening, he weaved his fingers through her long locks and dragged her closer, forcing their noses to touch. "Answer me."

"Of course I do," she muttered bitterly, clearly offended as she attempted to pull away from his grasp. "Idiot," she hissed, balling up the quilt and shoving it roughly in his chest. Without making a scene, she rose to her feet.

Dark eyes followed her as she tiptoed down the aisle, courteously maneuvering around luggage and sleeping children; he forced himself to lean back into his seat and catch his breath. His calloused fingers gripped the armrest tightly, forcing it to crack against the anger rising with him. He could feel it leaving. She pulled away all the warmth she gave him and for some reason it could not stand alone. He didn't want it leaving so soon.

He didn't know if he could stand it.

And there it was, just sitting it in his pocket, the only thing he had to give her. Everything, he had to give her. There was no doubt of the enormity the situation held, but the looming death that seemed almost prettily prepared and waiting for them would drive him to chase it.

_I won't lose it again._

Because it was not only their mission, it was his last chance.

It was a blur: Throwing the quilt aside and storming through the obstacles that had no label or description, he didn't remember. They weren't important. His footsteps echoed as if he were the only one stalking down the corridor, existent and alive. Turning the knob and hearing it catch, locked. Breaking the cheap lock and opening the door despite feeble protests from others, slamming it shut behind him and turning to face her.

She was startled; he, determined. She half-turned from the sink and blinked as if stepping into a bright light, clearly taken aback by the manner in which Sasuke had forced his way in.

"Is there something wrong?"

No answer. Step forward, step true. Closer.

"Would you _answer_ me, damn it?" She was getting angry, beautiful color rising her ivory cheeks. "You've been acting strange ever since we boarded the train, and it's starting to-"

"Marry me."

Sakura whirled around, hands gripping the counter behind her as she leaned back. Skin stretched over her thin knuckles, white. Her eyes darted frantically around the room waiting for that seemingly inevitable "Just kidding" that never did come.

Mouth opened, closed, opened again with no words emerging.

She locked her eyes on him and challenged him silently, daring him to admit the joke. His proud, towering stance with the signature, aristocratically set jaw and glaring, glittering eyes that were almost coaxing her to get it in his angry, now slightly amused, face.

"…"

"Sakura." He spoke her name carefully, every syllable a staccato, rich bite of tenor.

"Marry me."

"… ARE YOU CRAZY?"

* * *


End file.
